


Synergy

by siluria



Category: RED (2010), This Means War (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Gen, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siluria/pseuds/siluria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>August 10th 2013, the World changes, and the battle lines are erased only to reform between humanity and the Kaiju.</p><p>Cooper wants nothing more than to do his duty, to do what he's been trained for, but time and opportunity are slipping away from him, and it comes down to one last attempt to find that person he's compatible with.  </p><p>With Lauren gone, FDR is just as desperate to find his purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synergy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/gifts).



> Happy birthday to the wonderful [Kayim](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/pseuds/Kayim)!!!
> 
> As is a general rule in our friendship, she asks (demands?) - she gets, even if I've never managed to write anything in any of these fandoms before. Ah, the things I do...
> 
> I've written this with as much Pacific Rim knowledge as I can gain from the one viewing and the [Pacific Rim Wikia](http://pacificrim.wikia.com/wiki/Pacific_Rim_Wiki), and have made it so that it would be beneficial to have some knowledge of the Pacific Rim universe to understand the terms, although the fic is set before the timeline of the movie. The ever helpful [taibhrigh](http://archiveofourown.org/users/taibhrigh/pseuds/taibhrigh) has graciously picked apart my spelling/grammar, but any Pacific Rim inaccuracies are all on me, for which I humbly apologise.

*

August 10th 2013. The world changed.

William Cooper was in Moscow, away from his family for the first time since they had discovered just what his job was. He'd lied for years about injuries that came from mishaps at work or pushing himself too hard at the gym. He covered up his field assignments with tales of business trips to look at new systems. Before, when he'd left, his wife would kiss him goodbye and wish him a safe journey. That morning she'd kissed him goodbye and told him to stay safe. Just as she had done when he got to the end of his leave and returned to duty. That speech he'd given about quitting the Marines for a desk job and being somewhere safer for her and the kids, nothing more than a lie, had sat heavy in his gut with the knowledge she would worry again.

His mission had been trying to determine exactly where Snowden was hiding out. In the end it didn't matter. The CIA shifted its focus, heads of departments were trying to work out where the new threat had come from, whether any country was capable of bioengineering something so otherworldly. And Cooper and the rest of the agents had been sent out into the field with orders to find out. Michelle had grit her teeth once more and told him to go. To stay safe.

Cooper had found nothing but confusion and panic. After the first couple of weeks it had been clear that no-one knew anything, but that didn't matter to the directors. For six months all he had gathered was paranoia and scars. Then Manila happened. 

Cooper was a soldier at heart, a Marine, and every instinct he had was to fight. When he left the Marines and joined the CIA he was still fighting for his country, just slipping behind enemy lines hunting out secrets and taking out threats with a smartly pressed suit and a silent gun. These creatures didn't hide behind imaginary lines drawn between nations. There was nothing silent or subtle about them, no mercy to be found. He'd felt he could do more with his service rifle and a team of Marines, than an Armani suit and a silencer. Cooper moved his family to Colorado. He kissed his wife goodbye, and walked away from her silence. There was nowhere safe anymore.

*

FDR had been in San Francisco when Mexico was hit. Lauren had died on August 10th, and no matter where the CIA had sent him afterwards, he had always found his way back to the bay area, or as close as he could get amid the radiation and devastation. The earthquake, that they later realized was the precursor to an attack, had shaken the new foundations and spread panic among those that were trying to rebuild a life around the wreckage. He'd felt helpless.

Once Australia had been affected, the world changed. The enemy lines were erased, old prejudices and centuries of secrets were pushed to one side, and FDR had nothing left to fight for. The CIA disbanded. Their brightest had headed to the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, everyone else had been left to fate, to die or to survive. FDR had stood silent as he watched colleagues and friends depart inland, or sign up with the Forces.

FDR had waited. For what, he hadn't been sure of at the time, just something to focus on enough to hide the numbness. He'd watched with the rest of the world as the first Jaeger stepped out into the Pacific, part of him wondering what crack someone had been smoking to come up with the idea of a giant robot, but mostly just hoping that such a fucking ridiculous idea would work. He'd cheered as loud as the rest of the crowd gathered in the bar in the dark around the small screen. Something akin to hope stirring within him.

He'd signed up for the Jaeger Academy the first day it opened. He had hoped Tuck would come with him, always picturing the two of them piloting a Jaeger together. Tuck, however, had wanted to catch up on the time he'd already lost out on with Katie and Joe. If the world was going to end, Tuck wanted to be with them no matter how little time they had. FDR had joined up anyway, he had nothing else, He squared his shoulders and managed to push back the numbness behind a thin veneer of hope. Hope that he could be someone who could give everyone else the time they needed.

*

Cooper had been one of the first military personnel brought onboard when the PPDC set up. He might not have been one of the youngest marines, but his experience had helped him to test higher than most. The prospective pilots had come from all over the world, and the languages Cooper had learned while at the CIA ironically came in handy with the Russians, and soon they had formed a pretty tight team.

They had combat training for hours each day while the scientists tried to work out how to bridge the gap between flesh and metal to allow a human brain to control the giant limbs that the engineers were constructing. Cooper would sit on a gantry at the end of the day with ice packs numbing the pain in his joints just watching the sparks fly from the welders as the first Jaeger took shape.

The first attempts to bridge had been messy, and Cooper hated the fear that had started to coil in his gut whenever he thought about what it would mean, whether they'd be anything left of who he had been when he saw his family again. The only thing that had kept him going was that if they didn't defeat the Kaiju, there'd be nothing left of the world anyway.

He had bagged himself a corner in LOCCENT when Brawler Yukon went out. When they had won, Cooper had slid down the wall to his knees, his emotions churning between relief, fear, and bloody determination to get in the Conn-Pod in the next Jaeger they built.

*

FDR's track through the Jaeger Academy hadn't been without mishap. The world was in tatters, Lauren was gone, and FDR's mouth and smug attitude hadn't made him any friends. His test scores had been good, his physical assessments the best scores in the class. His tutor however had brought him down to earth with the simple truth that the successful drifts were between people that had a close connection - familial or romantic links. FDR was never going to pilot, not unless he learned to play well with others.

His class had fragmented on graduation, sent across the globe to the various Shatterdomes. FDR was sent to Anchorage, which he took to be his punishment. Although relatively new, the Shatterdome had been built quickly, leaving it basic, gray and fucking freezing. The only active Jaeger was a Mark I with battle scars and the decals of three kills on its chest. In the bay across from it they were building a new Mark II.

There was talk that there was no team for her yet. Well, that they had one pilot who'd been with the program for a while, but hadn't found someone he could drift with. FDR wanted to be the one to pilot the Mark II. To do that he was going to have to bury his grief for Lauren, for the world he had known, and resist the urge to rile people up. He also needed to find the guy they had earmarked for the Jaeger, convince him that he'd be a perfect fit. FDR was determined to make the drift work. It was probably his only chance to pilot one when he was up against so many good compatible teams that were ready to go.

*

Cooper could initiate a connection with just about anyone they brought in for him, he just couldn’t get them to stabilize. Prospective co-pilots always lost themselves as they latched onto old secrets and the dark deeds he'd had to commit for his country. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd done, but intrigue or shock seemed to drag everyone down and he had yet to generate a stable drift.

He had been surprised they'd gone to all the effort of trying to find him a co-pilot when there were teams just waiting on the engineers to build more Jaeger. Cooper was close to stepping aside and letting one of the teams that had already shown strong compatibility to get ahead of him, someone who had already shown that they could do the job.

The Mark II was almost ready, and he was nowhere near. He'd been on the front line since the first Jaeger stepped out and it felt like failure when each drift failed to find stability, and he took more of the blame each time, giving in would be better for everyone. He would hang up his drivesuit if the kid they had brought in fresh from the academy didn't work out. Cooper had yet to meet him; the Marshall was speaking to the kid before bringing the him to the kwoon. That would be their first introduction. If their fighting styles were compatible, Cooper might even get to learn the kid's name.

He warmed up with a series of stretches, before he picked up a bō and worked through the moves that had been drilled into him through the months of training. They were second nature, as much as the training he'd had with the Marines and with the CIA. His fighting style was an amorphous mix of skill and the dirty moves he'd picked up in order to survive as an agent, something that had the potential to be swiftly lethal when up against Kaiju, but the uniqueness had made him unpredictable, and difficult to pair off with someone who could be his equal.

He was halfway through a complicated rep when he sensed he had company. He slowed his movements, and turned towards the doorway. The rookie was older than he expected, but still younger than him, and Cooper read the assessment in the blue eyes that looked him over from head to toe.

Cooper stayed silent as he walked over to the rack to pick up another bō returning to the center of the mat and waiting for his opponent to step up. Once the kid was close enough he tossed the bō over, the kid caught it before moving into a start position. They circled one another, Cooper waiting for the other to make the first move. It was only when Cooper stopped moving, and a taunting smile spread across his face that the kid finally attacked.

The moves were straight out of the training manual. Cooper knew that manual front to back, had learned every page over the months and had adapted them, added his own twists and turns, dodges and parries, and sweeping motions. In seconds his opponent was flat on his back.

Once on his feet, he came back with more speed, changed his moves up a gear, looking for an opening that Cooper wasn't prepared to give him. He lasted much longer before Cooper's bō rested against the pale skin of his throat.

There was determination in the blue eyes when he readied himself again. When he attacked his moves were quicker still, more aggressive, and it took all of Cooper's attention to block and dodge the moves. The attack pushed Cooper away from the center of the mat, only his familiarity with the kwoon kept him from being backed into the wall. He countered and side-stepped, reversing their positions. Clearly frustrated at the turnaround, the kid threw his bō to the side and dropped into a stance that Cooper hadn't seen in a long time. Not since he'd turned his back on the agency.

Cooper finally figured out why a rookie had been brought in as his potential co-pilot. He was going to be his best match in fighting style. But perhaps more importantly, he might not chase those same rabbits if they managed to drift. Cooper smirked, twirling his bō before he tossed it away.

*

FDR wasn't used to getting his ass handed to him. Certainly not by someone older than him, no matter how experienced the other guy was. All the Marshall had said was that his prospective co-pilot had been with the program since the early days, and was just waiting for the right person to come along. When his back hit the mat the first time, FDR saw what he expected would be his only opportunity slipping away from him.

Frustration and sheer determination made him push forward, put everything into his attacks, but he was fighting against equal training and more experience, and not even the advantage of age could break through that defense. When the other man twisted away from the wall FDR had been pushing him towards, he'd had enough. He wanted to see what the other man would do hand to hand. A Jaeger didn't carry sticks.

He knew the Rangers spent most of their days in PT, so even though the guy was older, FDR wasn't going to take it easy on him, especially not after the smirk. What became clear was that this guy knew all the moves. And while FDR had expected that the PPDC training would mean that those moves would be counteracted, he hadn't thought that what he'd been taught at the CIA would be as readable.

FDR blinked and sucked in much-needed air as his back impacted heavily with the mat again. The man's face drifted into view, and FDR took some comfort in that he had at least made the man break a sweat.

"Kordesky?" he asked as he held out a hand to help him up.

FDR's surprise morphed into sudden understanding. He snorted and shook his head as he grabbed hold of the offered hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. "That explains some things."

"Will Cooper. I think you and I need to talk."

"FDR…" He shook his head when Cooper raised an eyebrow at him. " _When_ we drift you can find out about the name."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself."

FDR shrugged. "I figure we've had the same training, and similar exposure so we should be compatible with our fighting style. Plus, I don't need to chase after all your dirty secrets."

Cooper snorted, but the expression on his face became serious. "Don't make assumptions until you've come out the back of your first drift. It's not always the memories you're expecting that drag you in."

*

Cooper sometimes hated being proven right.

Franklin… Frank… FDR, Christ, he'd been in the kid's head and he had yet to figure out what he should call him. _FDR_ had at least been right in one respect. He hadn't chased after secrets. Instead he'd settled on Michelle, on the kids. Cooper knew why he'd done it too, the river running both ways let Cooper see Lauren, see who FDR had been before her, during and after. He shook his head and tossed the book he was failing to read onto his desk.

He'd intended to go see the Marshall and call off the hunt for his non-existent co-pilot as soon as the drift failed and a pale FDR had walked off on shaking legs. Something stopped him though. Before, each time he'd tried to drift he'd failed to find a connection, some spark that meant it was worth trying it a second time, but there was just something about FDR that drew Cooper in. He might have learned all there was about the man, but he wanted to _know_ more.

He breathed out heavily and rubbed his hands across his face, the skin of his palms catching on the days-old stubble. He was too tired and too old to be trying to haul people back from chasing down one way streets paved with history. He'd tried to drift with enough people that there were times when he was never truly sure whether the spark of recognition was his or someone else's. Not for the first time he wondered if he'd reached the point where he should just go home, do what Tuck chose and go make the most of the time he had.

The soft thudding against his door shook him from his thoughts, and he wondered if he imagined it until the sound repeated. When he opened it, FDR stood on the other side.

"Can I come in?"

Cooper paused only a moment before he stood to the side, closing the door once FDR passed him. He turned and rested his back against it, waiting in silence until FDR had finished stalling.

"I talked to some of the guys, and they say you don't give second chances once a drift fails. I guess I knew that." FDR paused as he tapped an index finger against his temple. "And I guess you know that I know that I should have listened to you, and that you were right."

Cooper forced back the smile that threatened to break free, years of training keeping his face neutral. FDR folded his arms briefly before what looked like nerves caused him to tuck his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants, his shoulders hunched.

"It's just… I want to pilot that Jaeger out there. I know you do too. We're as good as we're going to get for each other; I doubt we'll find anyone better, and I wanted you to give me another go. I mean it was my first drift right? And I know your first free-fall jump didn't go so well and I thought maybe you'd give it… give me - hell, give _yourself_ \- another chance."

Cooper didn't really need to think it over. His hesitation to go see the Marshall was telling enough. FDR was the first person he'd felt a connection with, enough that he needed to give himself that one last chance before he gave in. "Okay."

"I mean where are you… wait. Okay?"

This time Cooper did let his smile break free at FDR's confusion. "Yeah, I said okay."

"Well, shit. I thought I'd have to really sell myself."

Cooper smirked, images of a particularly FUBAR mission in Bangladesh came to mind. "It wouldn't be the first time."

FDR's head dropped and he sighed loudly. "Well, yeah, maybe not, but I still maintain that was Tuck's fault."

Cooper shook his head and stepped away from the door, dragging it open. "Go on. Get some rest and I'll meet you at the Conn-Pod at 0900."

FDR grinned, pausing on his way out he rested his hand on Cooper's shoulder. "We'll get it this time, I swear."

Cooper just nodded. If FDR's confidence was anything to go by, then there was nothing stopping them. Nothing except two lifetimes of pain-filled memories to drown in.

*

There was a swirl of memories, just as last time, but he recognized them, let them flash in and out again… most of them. There were Cooper's thoughts about giving in, about the intrigue that FDR brought, a spark of something that Cooper needed to test. There was a woman, Michelle, curling her finger, beckoning him to follow.

_Leave it kid._

FDR grit his teeth, but let the memory swirl away with the rest. _Not one of your kids._

_I know, they actually listen to me._

There was a moment when FDR didn't think he could keep his distance, could see himself through Cooper's eyes, and he was seconds away from freaking out again when everything seemed to settle. A strange awareness of another person, an echo, and FDR could feel Cooper's awe as if it was his own.

"Neural handshake in 3… 2… 1…"

He had thought he'd been prepared, after all the training and classes, yet when everything cleared it was instinct that caused him to raise the large metal arm of the Mark I, and he could feel the resistance, but also the power as he turned the steel hand to look at the palm. He curled the fingers into a fist, and felt more than heard Cooper's soft laugh.

 _It's something else isn't it?_ Cooper said.

 _It's like… I mean…_ He couldn’t find the words. But then he didn't need to, not when Cooper was in his head, not when they knew exactly how the other felt.

Cooper raised the other hand, and FDR uncurled the fist so that the two palms could come together. The sheer joy pinged back and forth in a perpetual stream of feedback.

The drift ended too soon for FDR, the shock of the disconnection leaving him shaking. He turned when he was so sure Cooper had spoken, but the other man just raised an eyebrow and shook his head when FDR questioned him.

"Ghost drifting," Cooper said. "Happens sometimes."

FDR nodded. He knew that, maybe from training, maybe from Cooper, he wasn't sure anymore. He wiped his hands down the legs of his pants, feeling the loss of the weight of the drivesuit almost as much as the loss of Cooper's mind from his. He startled when he felt a hand on his elbow, his head swung round to see Cooper's understanding expression.

"Come on, let's go someplace quiet."

*

Quiet for Cooper was a bit of a misnomer. There was no silence to be found on the gantry high above the Jaeger, not with the engineers working, with the clank of metal and the hiss of the welders. There were no people though, there never had been in all the hours he had sat here across from the Mark II as he'd watched her being built from the initial wires and steel plates.

She was nearly finished, the engineers and designers applying the stylistic features that marked it as theirs. True ownership though went to her pilots. Ownership that would go to Cooper and FDR the second they bridged with her.

Cooper allowed a smile to spread across his face. FDR sat at his side, the contact between them was light but constant from shoulder to thigh, and it settled the both of them after the feeling of loss from the drift. If he was being true to himself, he'd given up hope of piloting long before FDR came along and maybe that had been the reason each drift failed. He'd become far too accustomed to sitting on gantries in the various Shatterdomes as each Jaeger was built and headed out into the Pacific without him. This time the Jaeger across from him was his… _theirs_. In a couple of weeks she would be ready to test. After that, she would be waiting for the next breach. 

"So what are we going to call her?"

Cooper sucked in a deep breath of air and held it. Normally the naming would be the privilege of the designers or engineers, but they'd been a wager made one quiet night during an overly competitive and drunken game of poker. If Cooper found a co-pilot before the Jaeger was finished, he could name it. If he missed that deadline, the engineers had their name already chosen.

In his more optimistic moments, he'd thought about names, but it felt like bad luck to give a name to something he hadn't owned. Especially not when each failed drift dragged him further away her half-built frame. A Jaeger was the creation of the engineers, and it didn't belong to one pilot, it belonged to two, and it only seemed fair that the name was a joint effort.

"What are you thinking?" Cooper asked softly.

FDR snorted. "Seems weird already that you can't just read my mind and pluck out the answer."

"Think whatever the hell you want, I'll pick it up next time we drift anyway. No secrets anymore." Cooper didn't want to think how long it would be before they were so familiar with one another that they wouldn't need the drift to know.

"No secrets." FDR paused, long enough that Cooper wondered whether that fact bothered him. "Makes a change, huh?"

Cooper leaned his weight into FDR a moment, his way to say he had no regrets. "It's a different world."

"Yeah," FDR replied, the tone of his voice loaded with loss and regret.

The silence wasn't entirely uncomfortable, but Cooper hated the melancholy after the thrill from earlier. "They told me what they were going to call her."

FDR raised his head from where he'd been picking at a broken fingernail, spared a quick look at Cooper before his gaze went back to the Jaeger. He seemed to be trying to recover the name from the mass of new and unfamiliar memories that had been dumped in his head.

Neptune Thunder.

It wasn't their name, but with the swirls of different shades of blue paint that formed eddies over the shining steel of the powerful legs, resembling the pull of a stormy sea, it seemed fitting. Cooper figured he could get his winnings back in other forms of currency.

*

FDR's partnership with Tuck was built on trust and brotherly love, all forged through battlegrounds and family dinners until any doubt or hesitation faded away. While they'd clicked at the start, their relationship had been built brick by brick as they learned all about each other. His relationship with Lauren had started as attraction, had been tainted by competition, and ultimately ended in love. Both relationships had built through time, through learning. There were always going to be unlit corners harboring secrets that hadn't seen the light of day. FDR had his secrets, it was wrong to assume Tuck and Lauren didn't have their own.

In contrast, FDR's relationship with Cooper started with everything. He didn't need to hear about the first times, or the last times, what finding love or losing friends felt like; the sound of his children's voices, or the feel of the soft skin of his wife's cheek. He knew. There were no unlit corners. Any secrets that might otherwise have been hidden away were out in the open the next time they drifted.

That knowledge should have been borne of a willingness to share, information gifted as their relationship deepened. He felt like everything was backwards. He had all he could ever need to know, had a failsafe system that told him exactly the caliber of man he was partnered with and just how effortlessly they would be in synch. But, they were still untested, and despite having all the information he needed that told him Cooper was a man he could trust and depend on, FDR still worried that they'd end up disappointing each other. And that wasn't a sentiment he could hide.

It was a thought that clung to the forefront of his mind as they suited up, the day finally arriving when _their_ Jaeger was cleared for her first test run. He wondered if he was clinging to the last shreds of his independence, purposefully bucking against convention by calling her Thunder, while Cooper and everyone else had adopted her as Neptune. The worst feeling was knowing that Cooper knew as much as he did, could probably sift through FDR's denial and tell him the reason why. If FDR went looking he would probably find his own answers.

They didn't linger in the swell of memories anymore. FDR had always likened their subsequent drifts as just downloading the updates, and they spent so much time together out of the drift that there was little they weren't aware of. Sometimes FDR would get caught up in Cooper's thoughts; insights he wasn't privy to outside of the drift would make him relive exchanges they'd had with a new appreciation, although those moments lessened the more they got used to each other's quirks.

The drift clicked into place, so much easier than their first success, and FDR sighed in welcome as Cooper's mind opened to his, FDR's excitement at the thought of taking their Jaeger out now doubled, before it dimmed a little as Cooper tuned into his thoughts.

_You’re still freaking out about us not working out._

It wasn't a question. Cooper knew the answer. FDR gave a mental shrug. _Still got everything to prove._

_Maybe, but worrying about it, won't get you anywhere Let's just light our girl up and see if we can't chase those thoughts from your head._

They'd taken the Mark I for a stroll around the coast, but while their movements were in synch, both of them felt like intruders in someone else's home and they hadn't bothered to connect to her, to work out her strengths and weaknesses. Thunder was theirs. By the time the first Kaiju came up against them, they would know every weld and rivet, how much force to apply, and how to move without thinking.

As Thunder came online, FDR could feel the difference. There was lightness that the Mark I didn't have, and he could feel Cooper's assessment fall in line with his own as they fitted their minds and their reach into the fingers of her hands, to the missiles in her chest, and to the blades and pulse weapons built into her arms. Thunder wouldn't be the ambling giant of the Mark I they had been used to, she would be nimble, quick, and able to carry out the fighting moves that they had both been trained to deliver. 

Finally FDR understood why they had wanted Cooper to pilot her, why they waited to find the elusive pilot that would be Cooper's equal, rather than hand her to another rookie team straight out of the academy. The Kaiju were quickly adapting to the moves and capabilities of the current Jaegers. The genius of the engineers and the unpredictability of Cooper and his fighting styles could finally combine into a Jaeger that could show the Kaiju that they weren't going to be beaten easily.

_Don't see Alaska as a punishment anymore I take it._

FDR couldn't quite temper the curse that sprung to mind in light of Cooper's smugness, Cooper not even attempting to stifle his laugh. Without even thinking, FDR flipped him off. The reprimand from LOCCENT came through shortly after and FDR felt his face heat up. Cooper, the bastard, was laughing his ass off.

_The first movement from Nepture Thunder, preserved for posterity, is giving the finger to the amassed well wishers. Well Franklin, it could be worse, at least you didn't scratch your balls._

_Next time we're in the kwoon, I will end you._

_You can try._

_Count on it, **grandpa**._

FDR was getting the upper hand in far more of their bouts than the shut-out that was their first meeting, but despite knowing Cooper better than he did himself some days, Cooper still had sneaky moves he'd picked up from Moses that he didn't broadcast when they sparred. FDR was tempted to call on Moses just to see if he could pick up a move or two himself.

He felt Cooper's laughter subside as LOCCENT announced the launch. Thunder rolled out of her bay for the first time, and FDR closed his eyes against the vibrations that rippled through him as the Jumphawks took up the slack. His grin was wide as the bay doors opened up to the vast Pacific Ocean beyond.

*

The alert siren would have been enough to bring Cooper to full awareness from even a coma, but that didn't stop FDR from bursting through his door as he was tugging his boot on.

"Come on, this is it, show time!" FDR babbled in rushed syllables that Cooper only just managed to decipher.

He'd barely got his booted foot on the ground before FDR was dragging him out of his bunk and at speed to the drivesuit room. Cooper was trying to force down the rolling of his belly, to override the adrenaline and to listen to the brief - what class of Kaiju, where was it coming in from, how much time did they have, what were they facing?

The stream of questions and detached feeling he had as the suits were fitted must have been easy for all to see, or maybe FDR just knew him too well when he gloved hand rested on his shoulder. He didn't feel the touch through the suit, but somehow just knowing that they were sharing this, that he had someone he trusted implicitly at his side, that FDR knew... Cooper took a deep breath and nodded.

"We're doing this."

FDR grinned. "You and me, grandpa."

Cooper shook his head. "You, me and your ego you mean."

"Aw, come on, you know we got this."

Cooper glanced at the faces of the PPDC staff around them, those that were looking to them to stop the threat and to bring their Jaeger back in one piece. They didn't need to see his apprehension, they needed someone ready and able to protect them. He held up his fist for FDR to bump. "Let's break a record or two, and not get any scratches on the paint job."

It settled the crew around them, even if it did little to settle Cooper.

 _Stay safe._ FDR sent as soon as they drifted. He was confident, even if there was an underlying awareness of not knowing what it was they were going to come up against.

Maybe it was the familiar words, or just FDR's belief in both of them that settled Cooper's mind, the merging of their thoughts so that there was no room left for doubt. As Neptune was hoisted from the Shatterdome, and the bright lights of the hanger gave way to the endless blackness of the night and the ocean below, it was easier to believe it. He wasn't alone anymore.

There wasn't much time to dwell on what that meant, not when the cables disengaged and Neptune dropped to the ocean floor. They straightened up, watching the blip of light on the radar that showed them the progress of the incoming Category III. 

_Try to keep up kid._

FDR's laugh echoed as the Kaiju broke the surface of the ocean.

*

FDR leaned on the railings of the walkway, letting sore limbs dangle over the side. Thunder was back in her bay, the engineers checking each panel for damage, not that they'd find anything pressing. Both Cooper and himself had already checked her over on the trip back to the Shatterdome, mentally reaching out to feel where the hits had landed.

They watched them work in silence, their thighs pressed together to lessen the loss they both felt. It was always like this, whenever they came out of the drift, it just felt worse due to the length of time they'd been connected. Although in FDR's eyes the loss ached more and more each time they drifted. He supposed he could deal with it, as long as they had these moments to rebalance themselves.

There was a hiss of a spray gun, and FDR smiled as the first kill was marked on Thunder's chest. "Is it bad that I want to see more of those?" he asked. "I know I'd rather the Kaiju stopped coming, I'd rather have it that we didn't have to go out at all, but it's a pretty good feeling."

"Gonna have to get one stitched to your jacket too," Cooper muttered.

FDR frowned at the listless tone, wondering what was weighing down Cooper's thoughts. "We did good today," he said, pressing his shoulder into Cooper's.

"Yeah."

He sighed. "You want to tell me what's up? I mean I'm going to find out eventually, anyway."

Cooper breathed in deep, before he ducked his head. "I never had a partner when I worked with the agency. Whenever I ran dual ops it was rarely with the same person. I guess I'm just hating the thought that I might screw this up for you."

FDR shifted so that he could get Cooper's attention. "Are you kidding me? Did you see us out there? How do you think you can screw this up? You kick my ass in the kwoon just about every day, although I am winning more now I'm learning those sneaky moves of yours."

"I'm not Tuck," Cooper said lowly.

"No. No you're not," FDR said softly. "And yeah, maybe I'd seen him and me being the best team out there, but right now I wouldn’t change what I have, or the partner I have. We're a good team, hell, I reckon we're going to be the best, and maybe that will get us a ticket to Australia and away from this icy hellhole."

FDR nudged Cooper's shoulder. "I don't regret anything, except maybe not getting off my ass quick enough at the beginning. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to wait and get all worked up about not being good enough to be someone's co-pilot."

Cooper snorted and leaned into FDR's side, and FDR had learned enough about Cooper to know that this was an apology and gratitude all in one. "Maybe I should have known that timing was everything. If you’d got your ass into gear earlier then we likely wouldn't have her."

FDR turned back to the Jaeger opposite. "We're going to take back the ocean with her," he said, the confidence coming out in his tone. "Neptune was a good name." He could practically feel the Jaeger preen, and a slight shift of the metalwork made him wonder if she had heard him.

"Not Thunder anymore?" Cooper's surprise filtered through into his tone.

"No. I figure it's time for me to start fitting in with the team, stop being an asshole just for the sake of it."

Cooper snorted. "You'll always be an asshole kid, but seeing as though I can be one too I figure we can stick together and see where fate takes us. Maybe a couple of assholes can save the world."

FRD grinned feeling the weight of the past start to ebb away. He'd always miss Lauren, yet he could finally accept that the hurt would fade. He had a purpose now, and he had someone who got him, who would be at his side no matter what, and likewise in return. Maybe the developing co-dependency with Cooper would one day be the death of him, but right now, he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
